It All Began With A Horny Demon
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: Sequel to "It All Began With A Picture".  Bobby, as it turns out, DOES end up pregnant.


"Aren't you…" Sam edges a little closer, looks a little a _lot_ perturbed, and then whispers, like he's saying a filthy secret, "too _old_ to be, uh…" He stares pointedly at Bobby's belly, how the sloping torso now has nothing to do with excessive drinking and age. He swallows thickly and squints his eyes a bit fearfully, "_preg_-"

"God _damnit_, Bobby!" Dean barrels in, like he usually does, and he storms one way across the room and then back. "You're fucking prego with _demon spawn_!"

Bobby glares at both of them. "Impressive," he growls. "Now tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Bobby –"

"No, Sam, you take Dean the Hell outta here and you two don't come back till you can talk about somethin' _other_ than the fact that I'm fuckin' _pregnant_!"

"Oh, I don't know, darling," purrs a husky, accented voice behind him. "I think it rather suits you, the 'maternal' glow…" An expensive bottle of wine appears in one hand and a crystal glass in the other. Rich gold liquid sloshes into the tumbler and Crowley saunters to Bobby's side like the aged hunter isn't trying to kill him with the power of his glare alone. "Dean, Sam, pleasure as always. Come to congratulate us on our oncoming parenthood? You two are only too kind." He sips gingerly at his wine.

Sam has an arm braced around Dean's waist, trying to convey the message to him using his eyes alone for him to _chill_. Except, Dean's too busy snarling at Crowley to read his eyes at the moment.

"You fucker, you raped Bobby!"

"Oh, _raped_ is such a harsh, derogatory term… Made sweet, unasked-for love to? How does that settle with all of you?"

"Get the fuck outta here, ya demon," Bobby hisses, hands curling tightly into the arms of his chair.

"What? No trap?" The demon gasps dramatically. "You weren't expecting me back, luv? But then who would be the proud daddy of that little bundle growing in your belly? One of these boys?" He gestures widely to the Winchesters. "I don't think so."

Bobby's on his feet before Crowley's done ripping on Sam and Dean, charging his desk and grabbing a pistol out of the drawers.

He turns around, gun cocked and loaded, and stops. "What the fuck did ya do with'em?"

Sam and Dean are gone. Not a sound left in their absence, his back turned for hardly a second, but now he's alone with Crowley. What the fuck?

"I just sent them off for a little trip, nothing big, darling. Your belly, on the other hand, that _is_ big." Crowley sets his tumbler down and gets in close and personal, one hand holding Bobby's wrist, the hand holding the gun, away from him and the other smoothing over his rounded womb. "I wonder just how many mini-me's are growing there…" He stares where his hand is, thumb caressing skin through his T-shirt. "Or is that just a chubby one?"

Bobby tries to jerk out of Crowley's hold, but he's got him tight. He snarls and levers his head back, then forward, slamming his noggin into the demon's.

Big mistake.

When he wakes up two minutes later, he's on his bed with his head on Crowley's chest and the demon is humming something as he pets down Bobby's side.

"Sonofabitch…" He has the most painful headache _ever_.

"Now, luv, let's talk about Crowley Junior in there…"

"I'm gonna fuckin' exorcise ya."

"Of course you're not going to do _that_, darling, or else who will help you raise that little bun in the oven, hmmm?"

"I'm killin' it."

There is a long, uncomfortable silence. The room presses in on them, suddenly very dark and very frightening. Neither of them changes expression, blank-face, and they don't move. Crowley's hand is frozen on Bobby's side, directly over the swell.

Finally, Crowley grins and his hand continues on its endless trail. "Liar."

"Don't challenge me, Crowley."

"I'm not, I'm simply telling you the truth, as blood _awful_ as that is. You can't bring yourself to kill your own child. Not after you've already killed your wife."

Bobby's temper visibly snaps and before he even thinks about it, he's trying to kill the King of Hell with his bare hands.

He fails, obviously, but he at least makes it to the opposite side of the bed where another pistol lies hidden in a slit alongside the mattress. He grabs the cool handle just before Crowley's hand seals over his upper arm and points it directly between the demon's eyes.

He clicks off the safety and presses his finger to the trigger, glaring. "This _will_ hurt, ya demon." Holy water caps. Very unpleasant.

Crowley either does not know that or does not care, because he just grins carelessly. "You should check the chamber, luv."

Bobby grows subtly pale. Ah, shit.

"And that knife strapped beneath the frame? I think you might have _misplaced_ it. The rifle in your closet? Sorry, it went missing. Luckily, I _did_ find your rope." And he promptly introduces it onto the scene.

In seconds flat, Bobby is stripped naked and spread on the bed, tied to each post, and he just glowers at the demon.

He doesn't have it in him to fight for something he doesn't have – his virtue – but Crowley was, sadly and unfortunately, right about one thing. Bobby can't kill his baby, even despite the fact that the spawn would grow up to be a terror on society. Hell, let's not even _talk_ about how he's even gonna give birth!

And, knowing that, it makes him feel a little nervous to have Crowley stroking his extended belly, slightly pressing down on the taut, rounded flesh. He _is_ a demon, though, so 'slightly pressing down' makes him want to snarl and bite the asshole's head off. He just might induce pregnancy now if he keeps pushing _there_.

"My little daughter's mummy – and, yes, it is a girl, so don't ask, luv. A chubby little thing, ooooh, won't she just be spoiled _rotten _by us, hm?"

Ah, shit… A girl. How is he going to protect her for the fucking King of Hell? _Fuck_, how's he going to protect her from himself and the hunters he runs with?

"Crowley, untie me."

"Not yet, pet."

"It's not up for discussion!"

"Oh, but it _is_, you moron, haven't you caught on yet?" He leans forward and drifts his lips over Bobby's ear. "I like you, Bobby, so I'll make sure that you get through this pregnancy in _wonderful_ condition. You'll even get to raise her to hate my guts and hunt her own kind, it doesn't matter to me. But you know what _does_ matter to me?"

He doesn't care. Wisely, though, because years at what he does have taught him many things, he doesn't say a word.

"What matters to me is that you know who you belong to. You belong to _me_, but I never seem to get the message across unless I have you at my mercy or, God forbid, _give_ you something for the effort."

"I don't belong to ya, ya fuckin' demon!"

"Oh, but you _do_." Crowley kisses Bobby deeply, grinning and Bobby knows why. If he bites down like he wants to, rejects Bobby in anyway… well, demon blood is addictive, Sam would know, and Bobby doesn't want to go through that… especially in the condition he's in. So he's forced to just accept it, not willing but not fighting either as the demon dips his tongue into his mouth and orally fucks him.

He pulls away, thankfully, soon after beginning. "Luv, what do you say to a vacation?"

"Fuck off."

"Well, I'd love too, but you wouldn't be able to take that, not with how far along you are." He hums thoughtfully. His hands are on Bobby's inner thighs, massaging almost absentmindedly. Bobby tells his _other_ head to stay low, it's not worth it, little man, _it's not worth it_! Too bad, 'cause Crowley's hands feel good, too good, and the last time Bobby had sex was three months ago the time Crowley came over with his damn webcam and bullshit story about how Bobby's been tempting him this entire time.

"Mmm… but, maybe, I can be gentle… I hear sex is good for you humans when you're preggers."

"Damn demon…"

"Have you yet to realize that you have not once acted like I have violated you against your will? No, you act like your usual moronic self. So, tell me, luv, how unwilling are you, _really_?"

Bobby spits in his face.

Crowley, after a brief, frozen moment, licks the saliva off the corner of his lips. "That's not an answer, darling."

Bobby doesn't have one. Fuck it, _he doesn't have one_!

"How 'bout this, we have sex this one time, then we start knitting together a family, hm? Then, when you give birth, we'll go 'ape' in this same bed… By then, maybe I can even get your boys on our side."

_Our_ side? Fuck no.

"Maybe even their angels. Though that's a stretch, I'll admit." Crowley's hands tickle a little closer and his thumb rubs Bobby's sphincter. His dry skin against Bobby's dry puckered hole makes the hunter shudder. "What do you think?"

He isn't thinking anymore.

"Just fuck me and get it over with."

"So impatient, luv." Luckily, he snaps his fingers and his black attire is gone. "Let's do that first and then we'll discuss parenthood, yes?"

Sounds good. Bobby isn't talking, though, because Crowley's thumb has just entered him and it _hurts_ like a motherfucker to have his tight ass stretched, dry skin on dry skin, if even only the smallest bit. He grits his teeth and meets Crowley's eyes, still glaring. He's lived through worse. Hell, he's been paralyzed before from the waist down.

This is nothing.

And then he feels the slightest squirm in his womb.

"HOLY SHIT!"

That is… _something_.

"Ooh, look at that, luv. Baby girl likes this!"

Not something he wants to think about right now.

"Let's see how _naughty_ our daughter is, hm?"

Aw, fuck.

Eventually, they do talk about parenthood.

But that's eventually.

_Author's Note: tmmdeathwishraven wrote a review for the prequel to this and while I was writing my reply, this suddenly occurred to me! Genius!_


End file.
